


The Best-laid Plans

by RabbitRunnah



Series: Baby, Let's Make History [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Bob likes to meddle, Bad Bob's POV, M/M, Older Zimbits, Single Parent Eric Bittle, marriage proposals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:38:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabbitRunnah/pseuds/RabbitRunnah
Summary: Bob and Amelia look at each other and roll their eyes. It’s the same old story. The boys have been together for just over two years, and for a couple that combined households two weeks into their relationship, they’ve been remarkably silent on the topic of marriage. Everybody thought one or the other would propose on their anniversary and then, when that milestone came and went, on Jack’s birthday. Now it’s almost fall, and if nobody pops the question by the holidays Bob is going to owe Amelia and Alicia $200 each.That’s when he decides: If he and Alicia are going to get the wedding they’ve dreamed about throwing (and if he’s going to keep his $400), Amelia is going to have to help him get these two ding dongs to propose to each other.





	The Best-laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel, of sorts, to Baby, Let's Make History, in which single-dad Eric and history teacher Jack are brought together by Eric's daughter Amelia. Amelia's a born trouble maker, so it's only natural that in Bad Bob Zimmermann she finds a perfect partner in crime.

One of the happiest surprises ever to walk into Bob Zimmermann’s life is Amelia Bittle.

It would be enough to know that his son Jack, who has always been so reserved and awkward, whose romantic relationships never quite panned out, has finally found his person, somebody who sees Jack for who he is and wants to be with him forever. It’s just the icing on the cake that when Jack found Eric Bittle he also found his daughter Amelia, a brilliant blonde tornado of a girl who has her father’s eyes and smile and a mischievous streak a mile wide.

Bob isn’t particularly surprised when Jack tells them he’s seeing somebody with a child. It may be because in recent months, he’d been less than subtle about his interest in Eric, the single father of one of his more challenging students. In all the years he’d been coaching and teaching, Jack had never talked about a parent the way he talked about him. Bob didn’t say anything during their weekly phone calls, just noted the fond tone his voice always took on when he went on about the new pie Eric added to the menu at his bakery, or how fast he was on the ice when he came out to help him coach the school’s hockey team. 

And when he started talking about all the Sunday dinners he was having with the Bittles, well. Bob might not have a college degree, but he’s good at reading between the lines. Anyway, any questions he might have about what Jack is to these people — and what they are to him — are set aside when he and Alicia fly out to spend a week in Providence and he finally meets Eric and Amelia. The girl flings herself at him, nearly knocking him off of his feet.

“Hi, Grandpa! Can I call you Grandpa?” she asks. “Not, like, in a general old man sense, but because Jack’s basically my dad now so you’re technically my grandpa.”

“I would love nothing more,” he says, heart full. 

Throughout the weekend, he quietly observes the way the three interact. It’s only been a few months since he’s seen Jack, but he notices the changes in him immediately. Jack _in love_ is something new. He smiles more often, laughs more easily, seems altogether more comfortable in his own skin. It’s easy to attribute this change to the Bittles, who have effortlessly folded him into their little family. Watching Jack fold a 12-year-old’s laundry and seeing his name on the family chore chart tugs at Bob’s heart in ways he didn’t expect. Nobody will blame him if it makes him tear up a little.

And nobody will blame him if he finds it hard not to laugh when Amelia chirps Jack for the same things he’d been chirping him about for _years_.

“Walk behind me,” she orders at the farmers market, a Saturday morning Bittle tradition that now includes Jack. “I don’t want anybody to see you in those shoes and think you’re with me.” 

Jack, who has never been quite so affectionate with his previous partners, takes Eric’s hand in his. “I think everybody knows I’m with the two of you anyway.”

Alicia pulls Bob and Amelia into a strawberry stand. “Can you believe this?” she asks, eyes wide.

From their vantage point, Bob watches the couple approach a pretzel vendor across the way. He watches Jack purchase a single soft pretzel, take a bite, and offer the pretzel to Eric. They eat it that way, each taking a bite at a time, as they meander through the stalls, oblivious to their family that trails a few steps behind them.

“They do this every weekend,” Amelia says with an exasperated air, but she’s smiling.

“You love it,” Bob guesses.

“Well, yeah. Jack makes my dad really happy. He has me but he was lonely before, you know?”

“I think Jack was lonely, too,” Alicia says. “But it’s not just your dad who makes him happy. He talks about _you_ all the time, you know.”

Amelia beams. “I’m kind of a pain,” she admits. “I don’t know if he told you that part.”

“Oh, he told us,” Bob says with a laugh. “You’re the one who wrote a rap about him and performed it in class?”

“That was me. That was the first time he called my dad. It took, like, four more conferences before I realized they might like each other. Dad was never as mad as he should have been after a meeting with Jack. And Jack started to get kind of smiley whenever my dad was around. Before that he was just —” she pulls her face into a near-perfect imitation of Jack’s grumpy face.

“Sweetheart, were you getting in trouble on purpose so they would spend time together?” Alicia asks the question a little tentatively, like she might not want to know the answer.

Amelia turns a little pink. “Oh, no! I really didn’t like Jack’s class at first, and I was really upset about moving. My therapist says I was acting out. But it _was_ my idea to have Dad come out and help Jack coach the hockey team. I kind of just had a feeling they’d enjoy hanging out together, doing something they both love, instead of talking about me.”

“Very sneaky,” Bob says, impressed. “We love it.”

Alicia hugs Amelia to her. “I think he’s needed the two of you in his life for a long time. We’re really glad he found you.”

Later, when Bob opens the refrigerator to get a bottle of water, he’s amused to see Amelia has drawn faces and speech bubbles — all of them reading “Eat More Protein” — on Jack’s stash of hard boiled eggs.

“He hates it when I do that,” she confesses from the kitchen table, where she’s eating a bowl of cereal.

“Eh, it’s good for him,” Bob tells her. “Sometimes he needs to laugh at himself.”

Before they return to Montreal, he purchases a package of fine-tipped markers and leaves it on Amelia’s bed with a note: “For the eggs. Send pictures.”

In the rental car on the way back to the airport, Alicia turns to Bob and says, “I love them.” He agrees. Their relationship is new, but already Jack and Eric are a team. In the kitchen, they’d worked together, moving around each other and sharing the space like they’d been doing it for years. “Here, Bits,” Jack had said, holding a spoon of homemade pasta sauce out for Eric to try.

“Mmm, that’s good, Sweetpea. Maybe try a little more salt.” Eric’s hand found the salt and passed it to Jack, who threw just a pinch into the saucepan. A timer went off, and Jack was already putting the colander in the sink as Eric took the pot of pasta off the stove.

After dinner, when they were all sitting on the couch, Eric seemed to recognize that Jack had had enough socialization for the day and carried the conversation. On Sunday morning, while Eric was working, it was clear Jack was beginning to take on a larger role as a parental figure in Amelia’s life without overstepping his boundaries. He made sure she did her morning chores and wordlessly handed her a hard boiled egg when he saw her with her bowl of Fruity Pebbles. 

“I’ve never wanted to put pressure on him,” Alicia says now. “But I’m so glad he gets to have this.”

He understands what she’s really saying. He and Alicia won’t be around forever, and one of his biggest unspoken fears in recent years, as their friends’ children married and had kids of their own, is that their only child might eventually be left alone. After this week with Jack and the Bittles, Bob’s heart feels settled. His right hand finds Alicia’s and he gives it a little squeeze. “Get ready for a wedding, baby,” he says. “I think this one’s going to last.”

 

***

 

True to her word, Amelia sends pictures. Every Sunday evening, Jack boils two dozen eggs, and every Monday morning Amelia texts Bob and Alicia a picture of the week’s egg artwork. It might be a hockey-playing family, their likenesses on one side of the eggs and their jersey numbers on the other. Sometimes, it’s just a message spelled out in letters.  P-R-O-P-E-R-T-Y-O-F-J-A-C-K-Z-I-M-M-E-R-M-A-N-N is Bob’s favorite.

“I know you encourage her,” Jack says during one of their calls. He texts a photo of an egg decorated with a stick figure dressed in yellow running shoes, cargo shorts, and a baseball cap. “Burger King Bandit!!!” is scrawled above him.

“I have no idea where she found those pictures of you,” Bob insists.

But he does, of course. Amelia’s looks are all Bittle, but they’re so alike nobody questions it when a man who has gone by “Bad Bob” for most of his adult life introduces her to friends and acquaintances as his granddaughter. 

He does it at his 75th birthday party, a huge affair Alicia spent months planning. She’s rented the ballroom in one of Montreal’s finest hotels, and invited everyone from close friends and family to hockey world luminaries. Bob and Alicia still get invited to big events a few times a year — especially during awards season when Hollywood remembers Alicia used to be an in-demand actress — but Jack tends to keep his distance from large social gatherings unless his presence is absolutely necessary, so this is Eric and Amelia’s first big Zimmermann Event.

Bob and Amelia are sharing a piece of cake when the hockey commissioner and his wife approach to wish him a happy birthday.

“Jack even tells me you still get out on the ice sometimes,” the hockey commissioner’s wife, Elise, says. “Impressive.”

He hugs Amelia to him. “Well, I have to keep up with my granddaughter.”

Elise, impressively, keeps her expression mild. “Oh, I didn’t realize Jack had a daughter.”

“Well.” Bob gives an exaggerated wink. “We only just found out about her.”

There’s an awkward silence.

“ _Papa_.” Bob realizes, too late, that Jack and Eric are standing right behind them and heard the entire exchange.

“Ah, Amelia is Jack’s partner, Eric’s, daughter. Jack has been helping raise her for the past two years. Sometimes Alicia and I forget she isn’t actually our granddaughter.”

“Oh!” Elise looks a little relieved. “Congratulations! I didn’t realize Jack had gotten married.”

“Oh, they aren’t,” Bob says.

“Yet,” Amelia adds.

“Have you set a date?”

Eric and Jack look at each other and shrug. 

Bob and Amelia look at each other and roll their eyes. It’s the same old story. The boys have been together for just over two years, and for a couple that combined households two weeks into their relationship, they’ve been remarkably silent on the topic of marriage. Everybody thought one or the other would propose on their anniversary and then, when that milestone came and went, on Jack’s birthday. Now it’s almost fall, and if nobody pops the question by the holidays Bob is going to owe Amelia and Alicia $200 each.

That’s when he decides: If he and Alicia are going to get the wedding they’ve dreamed about throwing (and if he’s going to keep his $400), Amelia is going to have to help him get these two to propose to each other.

It’s easy for him to lure her away. He waits until Alicia is introducing Jack and Eric to some old friends before interrupting the animated conversation she’s still having with the hockey commissioner.

“Just think about it,” she’s saying as Bob approaches.

“Think about what?”

“Female players in the NHL.”

“That will be a great day for the sport. I agree, you _should_ think about it. Preferably before this one is old enough for the draft,” Bob says in his best Hockey Elder voice. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I have to steal my granddaughter.”

Amelia gives him an exaggerated pout. “You ruined my pitch; I almost had him convinced.”

“Glad you’re keeping your power of persuasion sharp. But I need it for something more immediate. You wanna get out of here?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“There’s a vending machine three floors up.”

Amelia raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “The last time we stayed in a hotel, Dad and Jack told me I could only get quinoa chips.”

“Would I do that to you? This one has the good stuff,” Bob promises.

A few minutes later, he’s shown her his trick for getting the machine to dispense two items and they’re eating Flamin’ Hot Cheetos on a couch in the lobby. “So,” he begins. “What’s it going to take to make a wedding happen?”

“Believe me, if it were up to me, it would have happened already. I don’t know what the holdup is.”

“Has either of them _talked_ about it?”

Amelia pops a Cheeto into her mouth and licks the dust of her thumb and forefinger while she considers the question. “Dad wants Jack to adopt me. Jack wants to adopt me. I want Jack to adopt me. That’s as far as it ever goes. ”

“And you’re all for that?”

“It would just make legal what we already know,” Amelia says, matter-of-fact. “Jack’s my dad, too.”

“So,” Bob says, with a conspiratorial grin, “let’s see about making that happen. Plant the idea in their heads.”

Amelia nods. “We can send them off on a romantic weekend away. They’ll like that. They always talk about Vermont. Like everyone is just dying to go to Vermont.” She makes a face. 

“Someday, you’ll see the appeal of Vermont. It can be very romantic.”

“Those weirdos think everything is romantic. Sometimes we’ll be at the rink and they’ll demonstrate a pass and then they’ll just skate up to each other and stand real close and look at each other, like they forgot they’re not alone. Who _does_ that?”

“Ding dongs in love.”

“Yeah, I guess. Do you think they’ll be like this forever?”

Bob thinks about the wolf whistle Alicia gave him when she saw him in his suit tonight, how they got so distracted they almost didn’t make it to the party on time. He thinks about how Jack is definitely his mother’s son. “Probably, yeah.”

“Huh. Gross. I kind of want another piece of cake. Do you think there’s any left?”

Bob laughs. “Let’s go get cake and pretend this conversation never happened.”

 

“What have you two been up to?” Eric asks when Bob and Amelia return to the ballroom, identical smug grins on their faces.

“We’re gonna rob a bank,” Amelia says. “Wanna help?”

Jack narrows his eyes. “What do you plan to go by, the Cheeto Bandits?” 

Amelia’s mouth falls open.

“Next time, wash your hands,” Eric says with a little laugh. “Otherwise you’re gonna leave a trail.”

“We caught you red handed,” Jack deadpans.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Amelia groans. “You are _such_ a dad!”

Bob doesn’t miss the way Jack lights up when Amelia says that, or the adoring look Eric gives him. Ding dongs in love, indeed.

 

***

 

In the morning, while Eric, Amelia, and Alicia sleep in, Bob invites Jack to join him for his morning run.

At 75, he’s grateful for the small things in life; that he can still jog with his son and have this conversation is a privilege he doesn’t take for granted. All the same, when he spots a bench in the park they’re running through, he motions for Jack to stop and sit down.

“What, can’t keep up with me?” Jack teases.

“I just thought you looked like _you_ could use a break,” Bob fires back. 

Jack taps his knee. “Old hockey injury.”

Bob laughs. “Is that your excuse when you can’t keep up with that daughter of yours?”

“Not technically my daughter. Yet.”

This is it: his opening. “About that …”

“ _Papa_.”

“I’m just saying, Jack, you’ve been together for two years. You know, when your mother and I bought the house, the first thing she said was that the backyard was perfect for a wedding.”

Jack looks at him. “You’re fixated on whether or not I get married because you want to throw a _party_?”

“Not just that. You know your mother and I don’t think you need rings as proof of your commitment, but practically speaking, it sure would make things easier for all of you if you were to make some things legal.”

“We know.” Jack keeps his eyes fixed on a gaggle of geese in the distance. “We’ve talked about it, and we keep talking around it. Eric asked me, about six months ago, if I’d like to adopt Amelia. We’re looking into it. It’s not as simple as going to a judge and signing some papers. Eric’s ex would have to terminate his parental rights, which shouldn’t be a problem if we can ever get in touch with him. And then, before I can adopt her in the state of Rhode Island, Eric and I have to be legally married.”

“And you’re waiting because?”

Jack sighs. “I don’t know. Isn’t that funny? I’m ready to get married, I was ready the day I moved in. Ready before our first official date, if I’m being honest. But things are nice and comfortable the way they are, and every time I think about taking a weekend away to propose something comes up. Amelia has a hockey tournament or I have a stack of papers to grade or Eric’s overnight baker quits or we all get the flu and — there’s a reason people usually do this _before_ kids, you know?”

“I know.” Bob laughs, remembering the winter Jack was two and every weekend he was home, it seemed, he was either sick with one bug or another, or miserable from teething. “Believe me, I know. What if we make it easy for you?”

“How so?”

“Your mom and I will take Amelia for a long weekend. We’ll come up, get her to her practices, cook for her —”

“You’ll get takeout from that Chinese place she loves—”

“So you and Eric can take a romantic weekend away.”

“Eric and I don’t need a weekend away to be romantic.” 

“You really don’t, but you could use some time alone. You know, Vermont is lovely this time of year …”

And Jack is beginning to warm up to the idea, Bob can tell, because he has that look in his eye that he gets when he’s made a decision. “Yeah. _Yeah_. We can both take Friday off, spend the weekend. We can go to some of the local wineries and farmers markets, maybe go on some hikes or a bike ride. Get a room with a fireplace, Bits’ll like that.”

“Pick a weekend,” Bob promises, “and your mom and I will fly in to watch Amelia.”

By the time they return from their run, Jack has outlined a rough plan for their weekend away. Bob is ecstatic. 

 _If all goes according to the plan_ , he texts Amelia, _they’ll be engaged before the holidays_.

 

***

 

Things do not go according to the plan.

Well, that’s not quite true. Things go _exactly_ as planned on Bob’s end. He and Alicia, true to their word, fly in on a Friday in October and pick Amelia up after school. They spend the weekend spoiling her while Jack and Eric are in Vermont. Her coach is more than happy to invite Bob onto the ice with the team, and he spends a good two hours working out with them each day, even though it means icing his knees all evening. Alicia, who is now enthusiastically in on the plan, takes her for pedicures and tea. They get takeout egg rolls and General Tso’s for every meal. On Sunday evening, they hang a banner that reads “Congratulations!” over Jack and Eric’s bed and scatter rose petals over the comforter. There are bottles of champagne and apple cider chilling in the fridge. The three are sitting around the dining room table, playing a hotly contested game of Uno, when the happy couple walks in.

“Good weekend?” Bob asks, playing it cool.

“ _Wonderful_ weekend,” Eric gushes, pulling up a chair for himself. Jack settles into the seat next to him. “The cottage we stayed in was _adorable_. It had a porch swing outside and a big fireplace inside. A deck with the most beautiful view. We had all of our meals out there.” He sighs. “It was just what we needed. Thank you so much for taking Amelia.”

“Do anything special?”

“I finished the book I’m reading,” Jack offers. “With a little adapting, I think I can make it work for my eighth grade U.S. History class.”

Amelia makes a gagging noise. “Gross,” she mutters. 

“While Jack was _reading_ ,” Eric says, “I made a pie with the berries we picked up at the farmers market on Saturday morning.”

“That was really good, Bits.” 

“And then I worked on some new fall menus for the bakery. I want to add some savory items in addition to the sweeter fall flavors.”

Bob can’t believe these two. “Did you really go away for a romantic weekend, without any parental responsibilities, and spend it _working_? Both of you?”

“Well, we used the Jacuzzi … ” Jack muses.

“A lot,” Eric adds.

“I’m _in_ the _room_!” Amelia yelps.

Jack and Eric just exchange a private smile and this is it, Bob is sure they’re going to announce their engagement and tell the whole story, but all Eric says is, “It really was so romantic. That first night we had that bottle of champagne you sent with us and went to bed at, what, ten? And we didn’t wake up until after eight. I can’t remember the last time I got that much sleep. College, probably.” He leans over into Jack a little and rests his head on his shoulder. 

“And that’s it?” 

“Well, there was the farmers market. We got some artisanal cheese and bread and had lunch out on the porch with some of the berries Eric didn’t use in the pie and the wine we got on the winery tour.”

“Jack took some pictures of the sunset from that spot at dinner. It was a beautiful view.” Eric pulls out his phone and searches through the photos until he finds the one he’s looking for and passes it to Alicia, who makes a little sound of approval.

From across the table, Amelia catches Bob’s eye. She makes a face he translates as “Can you believe these fools?” He shrugs in response. “May I be excused?” she asks. Bob gives her the tiniest nod of assent and she’s off, sprinting down the hallway like she’s chasing an Olympic medal.

“She probably drank too much Mountain Dew,” Bob says when Jack and Eric give him curious looks.

“On a school night, Bob?”

“Oh, it’s fine. Anyone want a glass of water?”

Bob’s in the process of moving the bottle of champagne from the fridge to the back of a cabinet when Amelia finds him. “What’d you do with the stuff?” he asks, voice lowered.

“I folded up the sign and put it in the back of my closet.” There’s a slightly manic look in her eyes. “I flushed the rose petals.”

Shit. That might be a problem later, but hopefully Bob will be well out of the country by then. He hopes, for Amelia’s sake, that the plumbing in this old house is in working order. “You couldn’t put them in the trash?”

“Dad takes my trash out every Monday morning. He goes through it to make sure I haven’t thrown away any graded school work. I panicked!” She sighs and her entire little body seems to deflate. She looks as defeated as Bob feels.

“This isn’t the end of this,” he promises. “We just need to plan it better.”

Later, he corners Jack in the hallway. “What happened to the proposal?”

“It didn’t quite go as planned.” Jack, to his credit, sounds a bit defeated as well. “I was all ready on Friday night and then … we fell asleep. On the couch. During a documentary about World War II propaganda.”

“Well, there’s your problem.”

Jack ignores the chirp and continues. “So it was going to be Saturday evening. I had everything ready; we cooked dinner together and I had a bottle of champagne and the ring was in my pocket. I was going to do it, Papa, but we’ve talked so much about how I’m going to adopt Amelia when we get married. It just didn’t seem right to propose without her there. Or you and Mama. I decided to wait until we’re together.”

This is … better. It feels like progress. “So … the holidays?” he asks.

“The holidays,” Jack confirms. 

 

***

 

After one false start, Bob trusts his son about as far as he can throw him (which is to say, not far at all — he _is_ 75), so he decides the best course of action is to play both sides. Monday is Eric’s regular day off, so he invites him out for a walk after Jack and Amelia have left for school and before he and Alicia have to leave for the airport.

“Thank you again for watching Amelia this weekend,” Eric says. “She loves spending time with you. And Jack and I _really_ needed a weekend away.”

“It’s always our pleasure.”

“I’m just so thankful for the way you and Alicia have accepted us as your own. I know we might not be what you expected for Jack, a man with a child—”

Bob stops him right there. “Eric. Son. You are _exactly_ what we wanted for Jack. We’ve never cared who he ends up with, as long as that person treats him well and makes him happy. It’s been clear from the day we met you that you do both. I think he’s been ready to marry you from the beginning.”

“That sure is the truth.” Eric smiles a little shyly. “There’s never been any question about that. For either of us.”

“You planning on doing anything about that soon?” Bob asks, all casual.

Eric lowers his voice, as if somebody might overhear what’s apparently a secret. “We haven’t said anything to you and Alicia or my parents, but I’ve asked Jack if he’d like to legally adopt Amelia.”

Bob has an excellent poker face. He pretends this is brand new information. “What’s the timeline for that look like?”

“There are some legal things we need to take care of. The biggest, I guess, is that we do have to be legally married before Jack can adopt her as a step-parent. He doesn’t know this, but I’ve already been in touch with Aaron. My, uh, ex. He’s agreed to terminate his parental rights. It’s a bit of a touchy subject, with Amelia, because she knows Aaron left us and that Jack wants to adopt her but —”

“To know that her father could so easily let her go must be heartbreaking.” Bob can recall that most difficult of years, when Jack was on a self-destructive path and almost forfeited his entire future. He would have moved heaven and earth to ensure his son’s safety, his future happiness. No, he doesn’t understand how a parent can just leave their child. 

“Yeah.” Eric is quiet and for a moment they walk in silence, leaves crunching under their feet. “But we’ve been talking in therapy, all three of us, about what that would mean, and I think we’re all ready. I’m going to give Jack the paperwork over the holidays, ask him if he wants to make it official.”

This is going better than Bob thought. “You have a ring?”

“Planning to.”

“Good, good. What about a plan?”

“We’ve been talking about going back to Vermont for New Year’s, after we get back from visiting my parents for Christmas. The home we stayed in is big enough for all of us, if you and Alicia would like to join us.”  

“I think,” Bob says, “a New Year’s Eve proposal sounds perfect.”

 

***

 

The combined Zimmermann-Bittle household has a few traditions and one of them, apparently, is that Jack and Amelia choose and prepare the New Year’s Eve menu. Bob overhears their tense negotiations — interspersed with giggles — as the two make their shopping list over breakfast.

“Lord only knows what those two’ll come up with,” Eric says when they leave for the store. He’s standing over the stove melting chocolate in a double boiler.

“You worried?” 

“Last year they came back with enough frozen appetizers to open an Applebee’s.”

“Jack always did love his chicken tenders.”

“ _Bob_.” There’s a hint of panic in Eric’s voice and his stirring gets faster. “I’m gonna ask Jack to _marry me_ tonight.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’ve never proposed to anyone before!”

“Do you want to practice?”

“No. _No_. That’d be too weird.”

Bob wants to wrap the man in a big hug, tell him it’s all going to be okay despite his very obvious nerves, but he’s made it this far keeping everyone’s secrets and it would be a shame if he cracked now. Instead, he thinks about how last night, Jack and Amelia put the finishing touches on the proposal she helped him come up with. “I think,” he says, “you should do it after dinner.”

“Over dessert, you think?”

“You just take care of making the dessert, and I’ll let you know when it’s time.”

 

After dinner, which did include every frozen appetizer available at the small local grocery store Jack had found in town, Bob casually looks at his watch. “We’ve got some time before the ball drops. Anybody up for a game?”

That’s Amelia’s signal. “I saw a bunch of games in the closet in my room. I’ll go get one.” When she disappears down the hall, he throws a glance Jack’s way. He gives him a little nod and pats his pocket.

Amelia returns with an old Trivial Pursuit game. “This kind of looks like fun,” she says, taking out the board and setting it up on the coffee table in the living room. She takes a seat next to Jack on the couch. Bob joins Alicia and Eric in the kitchen chairs they’ve set up on the other side of the table.

“Bobby, isn’t that the one that has you as an answer?” Alicia, too, is playing her role perfectly.

“Looks like it. I’m definitely an answer to one of the sports questions. I think you might be on one of those cards, too.”

“Imagine,” Jack says, “playing this game out at your 13th birthday party and getting your parents as answers.”

“It’s moments like this I realize we had very different childhoods, Sweetpea.”

“Why,” Amelia asks, “would you play this at a birthday party? Were all your friends middle-aged?”

“ _I’m_ middle-aged, and I’m going to win this game,” Jack says, ruffling her hair. Bob sees that determined look in his eye, the one he always brought to the ice, and knows he’s not just talking about the _game_.

Eric pulls out the bag of tokens. “What color does everyone want?”

“I’m on Jack’s team!” Amelia scoots closer to Jack on the couch.

Eric looks from Bob to Alicia. “I don’t know if it’s really fair to have three against two—” 

“I’ll play both sides,” Bob interrupts. 

Eric turns toward Alicia. “I hope Jack gets his love of history from you, because I am definitely a sports and entertainment guy.”

“I think we’ll be okay,” she reassures him. 

Eric and Alicia take an early lead, only to fall behind when Jack and Amelia (helped by Bob) take three pieces of pie in a row. When they finally miss a question because none of them can name the Best Picture winner of 1989 (“ _Rain Man_ , what is wrong with you?” Alicia groans), Bob requests a dessert intermission. It’s Eric’s cue to get the individual cups of chocolate mousse he prepared earlier, and it’s Jack’s cue to take the special Trivial Pursuit card Amelia made out of his pocket and place it in front of the other cards in the box they’re are drawing from.

“Thought we’d switch things up a little and have chocolate mousse tonight,” Eric says when he returns from the kitchen with the desserts.

“Everything you make is good, Bits,” Jack says. He looks at Bob, then Amelia, and slowly draws a card from the box. “Uh, Mama already rolled for you guys so I’ll just go ahead and read the card while you’re serving us.”

“Sure, honey.” Eric’s busy handing out spoons and napkins. He doesn’t notice the way Jack clears his throat or the reassuring way Amelia takes his hand in hers.

“Um, okay. ‘This NHL player—’”

“Oh! Is this the card? You’re ridiculous, how long did it take you to find that one? Did you find the question about your mama, too” 

Across the table, Amelia has gone bright red and is shaking with silent laughter.

“‘ _This NHL player_ ,’” Jack begins again, “‘who retired with two Stanley Cup wins, proposed to his boyfriend on New Year’s Eve because he can’t imagine spending one more day not married to him.’”

“Oh my.” Eric stops in front of Jack, mousse cup in hand. Unlike everyone else’s dessert, which is topped with a crown of whipped cream, the one Eric’s offering him is topped with a gold band.

“Bits?”

“Honey? Did you really just beat me to proposing?”

Jack tears his eyes away from Eric’s face and finally notices the dessert in his hands. “Is that … ”

“Jack,” Eric begins again, but he can’t get another word out before Jack drags him down into his lap. “Jack! I’m trying to ask you a serious question here.”

Bob tries, he really does, but he can’t hold back his laughter any longer. Amelia leans over for a high five. Alicia, who somehow managed to take out her phone without anybody noticing, is recording the whole thing.

“I asked you first,” Jack says. 

“That’s because I haven’t asked yet!” Eric yelps. He shifts a little so he can look Jack in the eye. “Jack Zimmermann, I knew this was gonna be forever because you knew from day one that Amelia and I are a package deal, and you never even questioned it. And you would’ve had every reason to run, given the way we met. But you stuck around and you loved us and I can’t imagine a better way to start the new year than knowing our little family is official. Jack, will you marry me and adopt Amelia?”

Jack just buries his face in Eric’s hair, and it’s a moment before he speaks.“Some teachers," he laughs, “talk about the one student who pushed them into retirement. For a little while, I honestly thought it was going to be Amelia.” Everyone laughs at that, and Amelia just shrugs. “But somehow, that terrible year became the best year and every day I wake up thankful that _our_ kid was that kid.”

“That’s right! Remember who gets credit for this!” Amelia jumps to her feet and does a little dance around the living room. Alicia slips back into the kitchen and returns with four glasses of champagne and a glass of sparkling cider.

“Well,” Bob says, “I think you had a little help.”

The clock strikes midnight, marking the beginning of the new year, but nobody really notices. Jack and Eric are already kissing. Bob raises his glass. “To new beginnings and a new family,” he toasts. Then he leans in toward Amelia: “Are you ready to plan a wedding?”

 

***

 

It’s a beautiful wedding.

Jack and Eric opt for a simple ceremony, attended by their parents and a few friends. After the judge declares them legally wed, he presents the adoption paperwork to Jack, whose signature is met with more than a few tears. “Congratulations,” the judge — a close friend of the grooms who goes by “Shitty” (Bob likes him already) — says. “It’s a girl.” 

Later, after school lets out for the summer, Bob and Alicia will host a larger reception at their home in Montreal to introduce their friends and family to the Bittle-Zimmermanns. For now, they celebrate with lunch at the restaurant Jack took Eric to on their first official date. Afterward, the newlyweds head to the airport, where they’ll catch a flight to Hawaii. 

“Don’t spoil her,” Jack warns as they say their goodbyes. “And don’t get into any trouble.”

“We intend to spoil our _granddaughter_ rotten,” Bob asserts. “Chinese takeout for every meal.”

“Pop Tarts for breakfast.”

“I’ll write a note excusing her from all homework.”

“He will not,” Alicia reassures them. “Go, enjoy your honeymoon. I’ll keep them in line.”

 

***

 

Jack and Eric return from their honeymoon to find Bob, Alicia, and Amelia waiting on their couch.

“We have a list of demands,” Bob announces.

“Well, hello to y’all, too,” Eric says. “How about a ‘Hi, we missed you. How was your honeymoon?’ before you start in with this list of demands.”

Amelia screws up her face. “Ew. No offense dads, but I really don’t want to know about your honeymoon.”

“I’m with her,” Bob says. “Some things are better left a mystery.”

Alicia sighs. “ _All_. _Week_. I have been dealing with these two on my own all week. Now _I_ need a vacation.”

Amelia picks up her phone and taps the screen a few times. “Anyway, I’ve already done all the research. I’ve got a couple of lists going, and I know we’ll have to talk about it as a family, but we can’t wait too long. I’ve only got a couple more years here before I go to college.”

Her parents exchange a look.

Alicia throws up her hands and rolls her eyes. “They contacted a social worker who works with surrogates and adoption agencies.” 

“It’s a long process,” Bob says. “If you’re going to go the surrogacy route, you should start now. A baby by next summer would be perfect with Jack’s schedule.”

“You don’t want me to be an only child, do you?”

“Sometimes,” Eric says with a smile, “I think our whole _problem_ is that you’re an only child.”

“I could learn to share.” Amelia fixes her big brown eyes on them and Bob knows that they’re goners; Jack, especially, can’t resist those Bittle eyes.

“Well, it may make you happy to know,” Jack says, “that we finally beat you to the punch. Just before Amelia’s adoption was finalized, we realized these things do take some time, and if we do want to add to our family we need to start thinking about it now.”

“Nothing’s final yet!” Eric cautions.

“Nothing’s final yet,” Jack repeats. “But we’ve been in touch with some people.” Bob notes the smile on his son’s face is the same one he wore each time he won the Stanley Cup, when he and Eric proposed to each other, when the judge finally declared Amelia his legal daughter. 

“We’ll need a bigger house,” Amelia says, obviously ignoring her fathers' warning, “so we’ll probably have to move out of this neighborhood. I’ve found one that’s not too far from school, but still within walking distance of the bakery. We should keep this house, obviously, because we’re going to need help with the baby.”

“Help?” Jack and Eric exchange a quizzical look.

“I may have volunteered—”

“Insisted on providing,” Alicia corrects.

“—our services as babysitters. We have a grandchild now, and one on the way. You can’t expect us to stay in Canada. I have too many things to teach them.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” Eric says with a chuckle. “We said we’re _looking into it_.” Jack just gives everyone his stern captain’s face, but Bob can see the laughter in his eyes.

“But they can still stay, right?” Amelia is giving her dads that _look_ again.

Jack shakes his head. “I don’t know why we bother resisting you. You always get your way.”

And now Bob feels the way _he_ did when he won his Stanley Cups, when he married Alicia, when he held Jack for the first time, when Jack married Eric and adopted Amelia. Bad Bob Zimmermann is going to be the best grandpa ever.


End file.
